Magic's Knight
by Dave P. Anthems
Summary: Magic and Death have always been at odds. But when Death claims a soul on Magic's world as her master, Magic could care less and inadvertently throws the soul of one Harry James Potter to Asgard.
1. Prologue

**Magic's Knight**

 _Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter (J.K Rowling does) or Marvel (Marvel does) and am not making monetary profit from this._

Prologue

It was against the ancient of laws and decreed in the beginning of beginnings that messing with another being's stuff was off limits. This included but was not limited to relics, lifeforms, etc. It was written in sprawling paragraphs. Scrawled on magical walls. Left as sticky notes at the meetings of the simplest sentient beings to the strongest entities of the dimensions; _don't touch what's mine_.

So after five years of watching a soul reeking of death live on an earth belonging to Magic, he was understandably upset. _That_ earth was particularly special. It was the only one in the cosmos with a large population of magic users. It was his. The campaign for its existence had been long and hard with several underhanded deals and promises.

Order's insistence that their population be limited.

Infinity's need for it to only have one sun.

Chaos's demand that they accessed their power through twigs. Twigs. Of all things. Dumb, little, wooden pieces of nothing.

Overall, he was able to make it work so Magic had shut his mouth and agreed. Things had been smooth. Everyone was happy and he was happy. But lately a power play was being made. The cosmos were shifting and he felt the need for an army for the coming storm. So a little nudge there, a little push here, and so what if he was breaking the rules. The other beings didn't notice. The recycling of souls from his Earth was enabling him to keep the ones that were magical for himself. No one noticed except for Death.

The pair had butted heads for eons due to their very nature. Death was inevitable but many used Magic's own power to extend their lifespan; it caused a rather bitter rivalry. When Death had found out that he was keeping more souls from her than he should've she had been remarkably calm. She only asked for one soul to call her own as her request to keep quiet.

Magic had shrugged and agreed. After all, what was one soul.

Now, Magic stared down in contempt at the soul she had chosen. It wouldn't stand. He was the embodiment of magic. A primal force. Death could go and whine all she wanted. He would _not_ put up with it. Especially with one, he scoffed, she had titled Master of Death. He smirked, after all, they hadn't specified a certain amount of time the soul had to be on Earth.

Magic flexed his metaphorical muscles and his power rippled through the dimension. A slight poke was all it took to bypass Fate's desire and Harry James Potter dying a premature death.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes only to find himself chained to the floor of a throne room. The room itself was blindingly white except for the black-suited person sitting haphazardly on the throne.

The being, obviously male, folded his hands behind his head and leaned back, "You're dead." he informed him matter-of-factly.

Harry blinked, "What."

The being shrugged. "Sorry."

Harry shook his head, as his life suddenly flashed before his eyes. "My friends-."

Interrupting him, the being held up a finger to his mouth and Harry found that his voice had gone. "Shhhhh now," the being crooned, "They'll be okay."

Harry shook his head violently and as if it could read his thoughts the being continued. "Honestly. In fact, they'll be better off without _you_." It ended sinisterly.

Harry stopped trying to talk as he looked up wide-eyed; and not the least confused. The being suddenly smirked as it stood up. "Oh yes. Harry Potter. The Chosen One. Your life's been quite tragic since the end of the war hasn't it? It's quite hard to forget. All those sleepless nights. The job of a hit-wizard to keep sane. Lost girlfriend."

The being tsked as they pulled a pad of paper out of thin air. Seeing Harry resuming his efforts to talk the being waved his hand.

"Listen. I don't know who you are but you should bugger-" Harry stopped once again mid-sentence as his voice disappeared.

The sinister quality of the being came back. "Oh you insignificant bug. I am Magic! Your ruler! Your god!"

Not knowing how to respond and still rather upset, Harry gave Magic the bird.

Magic frowned, "Well that was rude." He gestured with his own hand and a swirling portal opened behind Harry. Another gesture and the chains disappeared.

Harry tried to bolt, his mind had started believing this was a dream, still, no one likes to be thrust into a whirlpool of black, even in a dream. Magic shook his head and grabbed Harry's arms.

"Nope. Not today. You puny soul. Now stand still." Harry's body immediately stiffened against his own accord and his mind drifted as Magic snapped his fingers in front of his face. A feeling of euphoria came over Harry even has his life's memories slipped away.

Staring at the now blank-faced human Magic couldn't help but smirk. He pushed the now memory-free and body-free spirit closer to the portal. Another strong push and the spirit, now a ball of white energy, was sucked away into the void. Magic smiled happily as the portal closed, there was nothing like solving an annoying problem.

* * *

The void was well, the void. As cliché as it sounds, it was dark. Cold. But it wasn't nothing. To those who've been there it could be described as an ocean. Currents pushed and pulled and monsters dwelled throughout. The soul, formerly one of Harry Potter, drifted. Time was irrelevant but as it followed eddies it eventually neared a bright glowing dimension of light.

A single glowing lady appeared with a frown. Her eyes blinked contemplatively before she reached and cradled the soul. She pulled the soul gently into the dimension and over a world called Asgard.

* * *

The woman was going to die. Despite her rich nobility, it was inevitable, she was going to die in childbirth. The first child to be born was given the name Sif and handed from a sweating mid-wife who handed the babe to an angry-looking father who passed it off to a nurse. The second child to be birthed was a stillborn. The father, upon seeing it was a boy, wailed. Suddenly a bright light flashed and the babe took its first breath. Rejoicing from the miracle, the father shouted triumphantly as he handed the boy back to his mother. She smiled happily amid labored breathing as her husband hugged her.

"Ares. His name shall be Ares."

 **A/N: It was short but this has been an idea on my mind for a while. Hope you enjoyed! Please R &R!**

~ Dave P.


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter (J.K Rowling does) or Marvel (Marvel does) and am not making monetary profit from this._

 **A/N: I am absolutely floored by the response the prologue received; thank you all so much! I hope the first chapter lives up to your expectations!**

Chapter 1

Sixteen year old Ares was, dare he say it, lost. It was embarrassing. One minute he was walking with his group; the next he found himself alone in Odin's palace. He blamed it on the book he had brought with him. The tour had gotten boring after seeing golden room after golden room and reading _Nine Knives of the Nine Realms_ had seemed the better alternative. Don't get him wrong, the palace was stunningly beautiful; a marvel of Asgardian engineering and ingenuity. Still, all he had done was take the book out…just for a few minutes. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Reading was an escape for him. He loved reading about the ancient days and of the beings that ruled the cosmos.

Ares knew that many in his group were interested in seeing the barracks of the castle guard and going to the courtyard to watch some of the sparring. Personally, Ares wanted nothing to do with that area of the castle, but he decided heading there would be the best choice for reuniting with is group. Unfortunately, the castle seemed to be empty of people today. Even worse, the corridor he was in had no windows through which he could attempt to orient himself. It was just his luck.

Shouldering his satchel, Ares darted into the next doorway he came across and found himself in the palace's famous library. Said to have been the core of the palace, the library was supposed to stretch from the bottom floor of the palace to the highest tower. Looking up, Ares could see numerous shelves free floating high above him in the tall room along with catwalks and balconies for reading. But more importantly at the moment, it was empty. Wait, he saw movement and sighed in relief when he saw two guards appear from behind some bookcases.

"You there! Return these books to their shelves." A voice suddenly commanded from behind him.

Turning around abruptly. Ares was able to catch the barest glimpse of a taller teen before a pile of books was shoved abruptly into his arms. He stumbled underneath their weight as his body sought to adjust.

"Excuse me?" Ares exclaimed. The male teen, who had already started walking toward the exit turned back to face him.

"The palace's standards for servants must have fallen recently." he said sarcastically. "These books go on those shelves you imbecile. And while you're at it, that table over there has several more to be put away as well."

Ares blinked and stared over at the table mentioned. There were probably another 50 books on it. He dropped the stack of books in his arms.

"I'm not a servant," Ares paused before adding, "Do it yourself you lazy bum." Normally, it was his sister that had the short fuse, but being lost and without his group was started to get to Ares. Besides, anyone who read that much should at least have the decency to put up their materials.

"I beg your pardon?" It was the teen's turn to exclaim,

Ares shrugged. "Not my problem."

"You insolent oaf! How dare you! Do you know who I am!"

Without the pile of books blocking his view, Ares could see the teen clearly. He stood almost a full head taller than him and had a mouth that seemed to be permanently set in a smirk. Long, black hair long was pulled back into a neat ponytail and he was wearing a a green and gold embroidered tunic that was probably more expensive than the apartment Ares shared with Sif. There was also an aristocratic look to the teen but Ares could care less. Several of the young nobility of Asgard had that same air. One that screamed "We're better than you". Ares hated it.

"I don't really care." Ares replied.

'Ponytail' looked shocked and it caused Ares to smirk. He made to turn around just as a hand grabbed his shoulder. Childhood instincts took control and his fist darted out and hammered into the other's face. And that was how Ares ended up in front of the throne of _the_ All-Father. 'Ponytail' , who turned out to be _Loki_ , smirked at him from beside his father; albeit now with a cut lip.

"You attacked my son." Odin made it a statement, not a question. Being in the majestic throne room was intimidating, much less facing Odin himself.

From his kneeling position, Ares couldn't bring himself to look the All-Father in the eye. Master Ofunn was going to kill him. "Yes, All-Father."

"Why?"

"I was…provoked, sir."

The room was silent and Ares eventually looked up. Odin raised an eyebrow before letting out a sigh. "It would not be the first time that my son has done so."

Ares made no comment and instead looked back as the doors of the throne room opened to let in two men. He immediately recognized the first as the previously thought of Master Ofunn. Large and hefty and with cords of muscle, he was Ares's sergeant. The man following hm was dressed in the armor of the palace guard and looked highly embarrassed. Ares's breath hitched as he recognized the tall man as his father.

"Ajijal!" Odin hailed, "What brings the Captain of the Guard into my throne room?"

"My son." Ajijal replied. "I apologize on his behalf for anything he has done, my liege."

Forgetting all decorum at the sight of his father, Ares stood up and couldn't help but shoot back. "Do a lot of apologizing when I was younger too?"

Immediately, the air seemed to stale as the atmosphere grew tense at his words. Ares's father refused to look at him and Ares could see Loki now glancing between the two in open curiosity. However, Master Ofunn's glare could've frozen a frost giant.

Odin's voice broke the silence. "Your son? I thought you only had one."

Ares's fists clenched.

Ares's father hesitated before replying, "Yes, All-Father." He didn't add more.

It caused another eyebrow raise from Odin before the All-Father spoke again, "It was a misunderstanding, a small altercation between two boys. There will be no punishment. However, young Ares, I would recommend learning to restraint. You may go now."

Abashed, Ares apologized for what happened before he bowed lowly and quickly strode out. His father and Master Ofunn followed him. Seeing his father try to touch his shoulder Ares snarled and whirled himself away.

"Don't touch me."

"Son-"

"I am not your son."

"Ares, its been four years."

"Yes it has been. Four wonderful years since Sif and I decided to run away." Ares glared at his father. "Heard that your son was going in front of the All-Father? Didn't want me to embarrass you once again?"

Master Ofunn remained quiet but Ares could see him looking somberly at him from his position behind Ares's father. He knew the story between Ajijal and his two youngest children.

Ares's father changed tracks, "You went into the army? Became a soldier?"

"My sister and I no longer answer to you. That's all I have to say, _Captain_."

His father reeled back from the jab but Ares was already turning to face Master Ofunn when a convulsion suddenly shook his body. Ares's eyes widened. No, not now. This was the worst time. He choked back bile as he involuntarily fell onto all fours, shaking uncontrollably. His vision flashed red and black dots swam to and fro. Images assaulted his mind even as he lost awareness of his surroundings.

 _A boy with the palest skin._

 _Blood._

 _Zombie-like creatures grabbing him._

 _An old man falling from a tower._

Pain erupted as his skin seemed to stretch, as if something was trying to break free inside him. His forehead burned as if a scar was being carved into it. But as it soon as it had come, it was gone.

When Ares was finally able to get his bearings he felt hands gently supporting him and looked up into the worried face of Master Ofunn.

"It happened again." Ares croaked.

Master Ofunn only nodded before handing Ares a goblet of water and a handkerchief. Ares looked questioningly at Master Ofunn who pointed at his nose. Bringing the white cloth to his own nose, Ares pulled it away to see red. A nosebleed. That was new. There was a moment of silence as Ares blinked to clear his eyes before finally, Master Ofunn spoke.

"That looked like the worst attack I've ever seen. When did the last one happen?"

"About three months ago. They seem to be increasing in frequency." Ares looked around, "My father?"

Master Ofunn shook his head, "I didn't believe it, but he just walked away."

Ares grimaced and stood up with Master Ofunn's help. "I apologize for what happened today sir. I shouldn't have gotten distracted from the group."

Master Ofunn frowned apologetically, "I should apologize as well. I shouldn't have pulled your father into the throne room. When you were lost I immediately alerted the guards who told Captain Ajijal."

Ares waved him off. "I would like to return to the squad now sir."

Master Ofunn nodded solemnly. "Be ready to wake up early tomorrow soldier, you'll be running for punishment. Your squad is just outside the door to the right."

Ares managed a quick salute before walking out. He just wanted some distance. Honestly, he wasn't looking forward to returning home now. The attack may have spared him Master Ofunn's wrath, but his sister's was a completely different story.

Neither of the pair saw the figure of Loki watching from the shadows.

 **A/N: Well there you have it, the first chapter! Again, a little short for my tastes but I promise they'll be increasing in length. As always, R &R!**

~ Dave P.


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N This was the hardest chapter to write.**

Chapter 2

 _Germany, Midgard 1940_

Ares shivered as he walked through the stone building. Germany, in the middle of winter was cold. So cold. With the power cut off to this street due to the war, it was a miracle his breath didn't freeze in front of him. He stopped in front of his destination, a metal door guarded by two soldiers.

" _Identification._ " One asked in German.

Ares handed over a folder and watched impassively as the guard glanced through it quickly before nodding. This was just another job. Another task. The folder was returned to him and the door opened which, as soon as he walked through, was shut.

It was the darkness inside that surprised him first, along with the sparseness of the room. There was only a solitary table with a candle alit inside. The single flame cast a dreary glow and illuminated the shadow from a man standing facing out the only window.

"Magic sent you." It was a sentence spoken in english with a German accent. There was a no nonsense tone to it.

Out of habit, Ares stood at attention. "Yes."

"I ask for help and he sends…an American?"

"I am not American." It wasn't a lie.

"No matter. Why are you here?"

Ares paused before carefully modeling his response, "I am here because I owe Magic a great debt. As repayment, I have been asked to serve your cause."

"You serve out of a debt? How can I be assured of your loyalty. Magic may trust you. But I don't. I don't know you." the man accused.

"Magic showed you power in return for your soul didn't he? He healed you." Ares stated. The man flinched. "Like you, my own soul belongs to Magic. I have become his knight, sworn to serve him. I will honor my agreement. If you follow Magic's will then there will be no problems."

The man turned around and stepped into the light. If he was looking for a reaction, he failed. Ares stared unflinchingly into the man's eyes. He had seen worse, much worse, in his centuries of service to Magic.

"Magic said you were his greatest asset." Ares didn't reply. "I want a demonstration. If you are anything of what Magic said you were then you will be perfect."

"Even as Magic wishes." Ares answered.

"Then I welcome you to HYDRA. You may call me Red Skull."

* * *

The day after the incident at the palace found Ares watching over his sister as she decimated a training dummy. His twin hacked at it with a maniacal fervor; cutting through the treated leather and causing sand to pour out. Ares massaged his head and waited.

The attack yesterday had left his body with several aches. He hadn't felt near as well as he had told Master Ofunn. The extra grueling exercises Master Ofuun had punished him with on top of his morning drill had worn him down till he was just about ready to collapse. Despite that, he had made his way to the training arena where he practiced with his sister every afternoon. It was a habit they had developed because without it, they would've only got to see each other at night. And he honestly had needed to tell his sister what happened since she had been asleep when he had finally gotten home last night.

Asgard hadn't declared war for a thousand years. With the nine realms being at peace for so long, there was a limited number of forces that Asgard kept on hand. Being in the army was a competition. With her age, it was even tougher for Sif. She had to compete against several older woman for a spot as a shield maiden. As a result, she took several extra classes in combat and sword techniques which left very little free time.

As a boy, there were more spots available to him to get into, but it had been difficult for Ares as a twelve year old boy trying to get into the ranks of the Rangers. It was unheard of.

Despite all the odds, Ares and Sif had risen to the top. They were determined and hours upon hours of hard work had been rewarded. Sif had recently been accepted into the shield maidens' ranks and It was nearing the one-year anniversary of Ares's own acceptance.

Rangers were required to have no fear and so, Ares had steeled himself to come. Immediately after his telling of what happened Sif and taken her sword to the dummy. That had been ten minutes ago. Finally, Ares decided to intervene.

"Sif—"

More sand flew everywhere.

"Sif. It's not that big-"

"Not that big of a deal!" She exclaimed. Her black hair, normally held in a sleek ponytail, was frayed and frizzy as sweat rolled down her forehead. "Just what were you thinking? What exactly went through your head?"

Ares reared back from the scary picture Sif made as she waved her sword wildly and yelled. She could've been a crazed witch; not that he'd ever say that out loud. He raised his hands defensively. "I'm sorry."

"You better! You could've just ruined my chances to become a War Goddess! Four years Ares! Four years of hard work! And I only _just_ became a shield maiden. This could go on my record!"

Sif threw her sword at the dummy with a last exclamation before she started crying. Now, Ares was scared. His sister never cried. He pulled her into a hug, letting her bury her head into his chest. He was the taller of the two at their age and still growing.

"I'll make it up. I promise."

"It's okay. I'm just…." Sif trailed off. Her sniffling eventually disappeared before she abruptly changed subjects. What about Father?"

Ares stiffened. "What about him?"

"He saw you. He knows where we are. We managed to stay under his radar for so long."

"It was inevitable. While it was not the time or place I wished to see him again, it would've eventually happened. We're in Asgard's army. He's the Palace Captain. We were bound to cross paths with him."

Sif pulled away and then looked him in the eye, "And your attack?"

"No." Ares shook his head. "Please, don't mention it."

"You said Master Ofunn saw it. What happens if it occurs during training?"

"I've considered that."

"Ares."

"Sif, no. I'm working on it."

"You've been to all the healers, they said it was incurable. What if they give you a discharge from the army because of it?"

"They won't. I'm too important."

Sif raised her eyebrow, "That's dangerously arrogant."

Ares pursed his lips and then sighed, letting his shoulders deflate. There was just so much going on and worrying about the attack wasn't going to help. "The army is all we have. I will find a cure. Whatever it takes."

Sif opened her mouth to reply when a loud voice suddenly called to them.

"Hail!"

The pair turned around to see a blonde teen walking toward them. He was tall and broad shouldered and carried a war hammer in his hand. Ares's eyes widened as he recognized the hammer. Mjolnir. Then the teen had to be…Thor. He immediately fell to one knee along with his sister.

"Prince Thor, you honor us with your presence." Sif stammered.

"Oh no no no please rise." Thor said, looking faintly embarrassed at their attitude.

"What can we do for you?" Ares asked politely as he stood up, he had learned his lesson.

Now, if possible, Thor looked even more embarrassed, "I am looking for the twins Sif and Ares? I was told by their commanding officers that they could be found here at this time?"

Sif and Ares shared a glance before Sif spoke, "We are they."

Thor's face brightened, "Great!" He whirled around and gestured at another figure who looked as if he were hiding. "Loki! I found them!"

Ares blinked as he recognized the other Prince of Asgard as he walked over to them.

"Congratulations, brother. Mother would be proud." Loki said the last part under his breath but Ares was able to catch it and he narrowed his eyes.

Loki folded his arms and an uncomfortable silence descended between the four.

"I have heard that you are very talented with a sword Lady Sif! Would you care to spar?" Thor asked abruptly.

Sif looked taken aback and she glanced at Ares before shrugging and nodding her acceptance. The pair moved off and left Loki and Ares standing there. Ares folded his arms. Politeness or not, he hadn't been the one to seek the other out and he'd be damned if he spoke first.

"I…apologize." Loki spoke. He continued, as if he was reading from a script. His eyes didn't even meet Ares's. "I should not have pulled you into my father's throne room for such a petty argument. I ask for your forgiveness and have come to make amends."

Ares blinked. "Pardon?"

Loki's jaw clenched. "You daft—," he forcibly cut himself off. "I am sorry for what happened yesterday. Forgive me."

Ares smirked, "You're forgiven."

Loki was going to explode, Ares could see it. Just one more push and the Prince would blow. A nagging voice stopped him. No, that would not do. Ares sighed mentally.

"I must ask your forgiveness as well, I should not have punched you."

Loki fingered his lip, a scab had formed over night, and finally nodded respectfully.

Ares eyes wandered and he saw Sif and Thor laughing as the two dueled. An idea formed in his mind. "Do you spar?" Ares asked Loki.

Loki looked at his brother and Sif and back to Ares before he shook his head. "I do not."

That was when Ares noticed the book Loki had in his hand. " _The Tales of Ofal, Asgardian Miner_? You believe that book?"

"You've read it?" Loki quirked his head.

"Even if half of those tales are true the King, erm your father, would've had those passageways sealed and guarded. Yet, there are no such things. No stations that rotate the guards that would be needed."

"How would you know?"

And that was how Thor and Sif found the pair; debating over the same book an hour later.

 **A/N: There you have it, the next chapter. Thank you all so much for your continued support! As always, please R &R!**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 _Germany, Midgard Summer of 1941_

Going undercover sucked. There was that time he had been volunteered by Master Ofunn to be an inmate and root out the leaders of a gang in Asgard's dungeons. That had been terrible; especially a particular sorceress. But it had nothing to do with being a new recruit in HYDRA.

His asgardian heritage and training gave him an evolutionary advantage; his body being stronger, faster, and more durable. But since he was to be on Midgard long-term, he had had to disguise that. Therefore, he had deliberately used a set of magic runes to make his body weaker.

There were side effects however. Such drastic changes completely disoriented him and he had had to retrain himself in hand-to-hand combat. He had been one of the best on Asgard. Here, he was mediocre. He would not give up though.

Red Skull had assigned him to pose as a newcomer and to work his way up through the ranks. Despite the months it had taken him to work out the differences in his weakened form his natural skill, like it had been on Asgard, was recognized by HYDRA's captains. He had been one of a few to be assigned to a new specialized kill squad. It was brutal and the latest exercise left him spitting blood onto the floor from the latest beatdown he had suffered.

"Again." Ares's trainer repeated from his position above him; brass knuckles glinting in the harsh light of the room.

It was a good thing he was a fast learner.

* * *

"This is a bad idea." Ares said as he followed Loki into the spaceship's control room.

Loki looked back with a raised eyebrow, "Scared?"

Ares couldn't help but grin in return. If someone had told him that he'd be friends with Loki a year a ago he would've laughed; but somehow, it had happened. Ever since that day Loki had come to apologize, the two had struck a friendship with each other. Estranged from a normal childhood and each with a much more outgoing sibling (Sif and Thor got along famously) it seemed natural if one was to think about it.

With their shared love of knowledge, the two could often be seen around Asgard together debating. Or, Ares shook his head as he thought if it, bailing their siblings out of trouble. Thor, with his brazen personality, often pulled himself into messes. It didn't help that Sif could usually be found alongside Thor at the time. Add those three warriors who had joined their two siblings recently, and it was a full-time job. Now, however, Ares and Loki were on their own adventure. Months of research had finally culminated in the finding of yet another passageway.

Asgard was just a piece of a large landmass that sat in space. The landmass was so large that of the Nine Realms, four of them were actually on it: the already mentioned Asgard, Alfheim, Vanaheim, and Nidavellir. Ares and Loki had devoted their time, well the extra time Ares had when he wasn't training, to uncovering the secrets of the landmass. One of those secrets were passageways that occurred naturally between the nine realms.

They had found a few but this one had taken them to a place neither of them had been to, Svartalfheim. Located in a cave in a mountain rather close to Asgard, the passageway had been difficult to get to. Ares had argued for returning immediately as being in Svartalfheim was forbidden but Loki had insisted they explore.

That had lead to them coming upon the largest battlefield they had ever seen. Remnants from the last Dark Elf War sprawled for miles on the largest plain. Colossal spaceships surrounded by hundreds of smaller harrow craft littered the ground. And while the bodies from the battle had long since eroded, there was a sickly stench that hung in the air. It seemed to cling to the light armor that Ares was wearing and brought a despairing mood.

When the two had come upon the largest ship yet they had flown their asgardian skiff inside and proceeded on foot. Now, the two had finally entered the control room of the ship.

Ares marveled over the signs of technology that the Dark Elfs had had. With the rainbow bridge, asgardians never had needed spaceships. Of course, they did have flying ships, like the skiff he and Loki had used to travel here, but they weren't capable of going into space. There was a small fleet of space worthy ships, Ares had been told upon becoming a Ranger, but they were a tightly held secret.

The Dark Elves had been leagues ahead in technology. Their ships were streamlined and built with almost dark, brooding, style of architecture. Through a hole in the the hull, Ares and Loki had lowered themselves into a hallway at which the end was a control room.

Ares looked around and his eyes fell upon a stone bust. He was examining the face it depicted when a light blue screen popped up out of nowhere and made him jump.

"Loki what the-!"

"Shhh I'm trying to read." Loki waved offhandly at him.

Ares maneuvered himself so he could look over his friend's shoulder. Upon seeing the lines of runes scrolling past the screen he frowned. "What is it?"

"The ship's log. It was the only thing that's still intact after all this time."

"What's it say?" He couldn't read them.

 _"_ It's the log of the captain, Scumbag."

Ares let out a laugh. "What?"

Loki glared at him, "That's what it translates to. Don't interrupt me. ' _The might of Asgard is upon us and I fear for our race. Our losses on the battlefield have been crippling. I and some of my fellow captains planned for this occasion. The mission to the Vanir was a success but the coward Sorcerer refuses to use—"_

"Sorcerer?"

Loki kicked him. "What'd I say about interrupting me?" Ares pouted and Loki sighed. "Malekith. He was the leader of the Dark Elves in the war. He was also known among his people as a great sorcerer. That's him over there. The statue."

Ares looked over at the statue and glanced at it carefully before shrugging. It was a rather ugly depiction. "Magic?"

He grew excited. He had seen Loki's illusions before but that was the only thing that he could compare it to. Long ago the asgardian's sister race, the Vanir, had warred with them, the Aesir. Their best soldiers had been magic-users of great strength but the Asgard had triumphed and the Vanir had become extinct and magic wiped out. There were certain bloodlines in the among the Aesir that had magic but it wasn't nearly as powerful.

" _'_ _The coward Sorcerer refuses to use the Summoning. Citing that such a powerful and unknown variable would not achieve our plans. I disagree. My compatriots and I have secured the Vanir's cargo in my ship and we will escape and-"_

Ares glanced at Loki when he stopped. "And?"

"That's where it ends." Loki frowned. He fiddled with several buttons before another screen pulled up, this time. "It's the ship's log." He pointed at a set of runes. "This is the same time the message cut off. It says…the ship was manually overridden and set to crash into the ground below."

Ares blinked. "Malekith sacrificed his own people?"

Loki nodded. "I remember my grandfather telling me this story when I was very young. Before he passed. Malekith sought to use the Aether to send the Nine Realms into darkness."

"And this Summoning?" Ares looked at the runes again but he already knew they were meaningless symbols to him.

Loki pressed through flickering pages of runes before finally stopping at one. "Here."

He frowned and push a series of buttons before jumping back suddenly as the entire board flickered with a burst of energy before going dark.

"Erm did you break it?" Ares asked rhetorically as he poked the now non-responsive board.

Loki ignored him and turned around. Ares followed him down a ladder and into a large open room. Dull grey light filtered in from a large window and shone upon a door set into a wall. Suspiciously, the room was void of wreckage like the control had been. It was spotlessly neat besides a layer of dust that had settled over the surface of everything. Loki palmed a pad and the door started to open with a deep groan before stopping.

"Help me." Loki said as he braced against the door to push it.

Ares hestiated, feeling slightly uncomfortable, before he leaned into the door. With a few heavy grunts they got the door open enough for them to step inside. With a snap of his fingers, Loki created a bright ball of light which floated into the revealed room. Ares stepped in.

His first impression was that of a storage area. Spare armor lay everywhere amid boxes scattered askew from the crash. A large beam had fallen and cut the room in half.

"What is this?"

"It's the closet where they stored this summoning." Loki replied as he looked through boxes on a shelf, "See what you can find."

Ares shrugged and prodded a container. He reeled back when he opened it as a putrid smell came out. "Bleghh."

He shut it with a resoundingg click that echoed before coming face to face with a statue. The statue was humanoid in shape except for its arms. The arms had been carved into sharp blades. Taking a closer look, Ares realized it was also covered in runes. Hundreds of them. Each looked as it had peen painstakingly etched into the metal. He frowned.

Loki appeared beside him. "A sentinel." He said with awe. "These were the noted among the Vanir's creations. They were said to guard things of great value. The Summoning must be quite important.

Ares looked over as his friend started to search the room with more speed. He grew more uncomfortable before a glint in a corner caught his eye. Walking over, he came upon a sword. Picking up the slender blade he looked at it admiringly. The hilt was long, almost as long as his arm. When he unsheathed it the blade revealed was long and narrow. It also somehow still retained a razor sharp edge to it. Upon seeing a small button in the middle of the hilt, he pushed it and jumped as another blade slid out the hilt and locked into place. Ares blinked. This was amazing. There was no way this belonged to the Dark Elves. They favored the use of energy weapons. This had to be from the Vanir.

Ares twirled the now two bladed staff experimentally and found that it was perfectly balanced. He was even more fascinated when he pressed the button again and the blade slid back in without there being a seam from where it had come out.

He nodded silently to himself. As a Ranger, he didn't carry a sword. He specialized in knives and their uses. But Sif, she would love something like this. It caused a smile to appear on his face as he sheathed it and buckled it onto his hip.

Ares shook himself out of his thoughts and spun his gaze around the room for Liki before seeing him with an ancient looking tome in his hands.

"What is it?" He said as he walked over.

Loki snapped the book shut quickly and looked up with a start. Ares reeled back slightly. For a moment Loki's countenance had almost seemed to darken. He shook his head. They had been in here for too long.

"I'm not sure. It's a book written in the Vanir's runes. From what I could tell it speaks of magic. But not as a force, but as a _being._ At least that's what I believe it translates to."

"A being?"

"We already know that there is a lot more to the universe, Ares." Loki reminded him.

"But your magic. It isn't _alive_." Ares protested.

Loki's face grew grim and he slipped the book into a satchel that he had on himself before standing up. "We should return."

Ares nodded and made to turn around when a red glow appeared. Facing its direction his eyes widened as the sentinel from earlier started to move.

" **Interlopers. Intruders. They who dare to steal the Summoning.** _"_

With a few hisses the sentinel settled in front of door, its blade-arms held out to either side.

"Crap." Ares instinctively moved himself in front of Loki. He was only wearing a padded tunic with a small chestplate. Loki only had a tunic on. This was not good. He drew the sword he had found with his right hand and slipped one of the many daggers he had on his person into his left.

"You're going to have to teach me how to wield one of those if we make it out of here." Loki murmured from his position behind Ares. He then spoke to the sentinel. "We mean no harm."

Are ignored him and carefully watched the sentinel. Its eyes glowed a dark red before it darted forward. He met a swing of its arm with his dagger and managed to pull his sword over his head to stop a heavy over-handed blow that jarred his teeth. His arm muscle tensed from the effort of holding the weight over the other's blade before it came crashing down. He was sent flying as the sentinel's other arm simultaneously slipped passed his dagger and flew into his side.

Groggy and dazed, Ares watched as the statue marched toward Loki who was holding up the bag for protection. He looked down at his chest and could see a gash in the armor where the sentinel had struck. Ares clenched his left hand and brought his fist upright toward his shoulder in a jerky motion, releasing the dagger he was holding. It flew with unerring accuracy and stuck in the sentinel's neck. It only seemed annoyed however and with a jerk of its neck, the dagger fell away.

The statue swung its arm and Ares watched as Loki dodged nimbly to the left and then winced as the other arm backhanded Loki into the wall, forming a human shaped dent. "

Loki!" Ares threw his sword to Loki even as he struggled to rise. He managed to get to his feet just when Loki was thrown into him. The pair crashed into the ground yet again.

The sentinel moved toward them. " **Usurpers. Thieves. Return the staff and the summoning.** _"_ Its voice was like the grating of metal and seemed to emanate from off the entire form instead of where a mouth would normally be.

"Staff?" Loki growled.

"There!" Ares shouted. Upon the mentioning of staff Ares's eyes had fell upon a glaive lying amongst all the chaos. It _had_ to be what the sentinel was talking about. The sentinel's arms swung for them and the pair dodged to either side. Loki managed to crawl behind the sentinel and grabbed the glaive. With a quick thrust, he impaled it in the sentinels stomach as it turned around. If a faceless statue could look furious this one did.

" **You dare!** _"_ Its arm formed long, metal fingers which grabbed Loki's neck and hauled him into the air.

"No!" Ares launched himself over. An enormous surge of energy suddenly ran through him when his fingers made contact with the handle of the glaive. Power seemed to rush through him and into the rod. A large beam of green light was the last thing he saw before black rushed through his vision.

 ***Scumbag is an actual character taken from the Dark Elves' wiki**

 **A/N: Sorry about the slow update, hope you enjoyed!**


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